


if you like piña coladas

by illea



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Karaoke, Male Friendship, Post-Episode: s03e10 Daddy Darhkest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:40:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26198002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illea/pseuds/illea
Summary: After Jax leaves the Legends and Rip escapes prison, they run into each other in Aruba.(prompts: rip hunter, jefferson jackson, aruba)
Relationships: Rip Hunter & Jefferson "Jax" Jackson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13
Collections: we didn't start the fire





	if you like piña coladas

Of all the places Rip could’ve gone after escaping time prison, he didn’t think it would be Aruba. There was so much left to do to defeat Mallus, but he was so tired. Exhausted, if he was being honest.

Now, seeing a familiar face at the beachside bar, he wondered if it hadn’t been fate—well, insofar as he believed in such things.

“Jax?”

“Rip!” Jax said, standing up and pulling him into a hug. Rip hadn’t been much of a hugger on the Waverider, especially compared to some of the others, but something about seeing Jax in such a strange setting was comforting. He held on a beat longer than he should’ve, breathing in the smell of sea salt and sunshine and Jax’s sunscreen.

“What are you doing here?” Rip asked, hopping onto a stool next to Jax and waving at the bartender to bring a round of drinks.

Jax’s expression sobered. He stared down at the bar, swirling his finger through a ring of condensation.

“I heard about Martin,” Rip said, his voice quiet. “I’m very sorry.”

“Thanks.” Jax swallowed around the lump in his throat and managed to curve one corner of his mouth into a shadow of a smile. “Figured I owed it to him to go out and live a life of my own. Wife, kids, all of it.”

“I’m sure he would be very proud,” Rip said, staring into his drink. “How’s it going then? The whole wife, kids thing?”

“I’ve only been off the Waverider for a few days,” Jax said, holding his hands up in defense. “I need some time to relax!”

“Of course,” Rip said. They descended into silence and he fiddled with the Time Courier on his wrist. He wasn’t used to being somewhere without a mission. He’d almost forgotten how to make normal conversation.

“Not to make things awkward,” Jax began, then paused. “Well, more awkward than they already are.”

“Thank you, Jefferson,” Rip said, a hint of his captain-like condescension sneaking in. Jax rolled his eyes.

“The last time I saw you, you were being arrested by the Time feds.”

“Only because your captain reported me,” Rip retorted. Jax opened his mouth to defend Sara but Rip waved him off. “It’s fine. It’s in the past. Or _a past_ , at least.”

“If you’re hiding out here, I’m guessing they didn’t let you out?” Jax asked. Rip drained his plastic cup and it was immediately replaced by another one.

“I escaped,” Rip said. “Wasn’t easy. But I couldn’t just sit around in there and wait for Mallus to win.”

“As opposed to sitting around here?” Jax asked, gesturing around the beach with his drink.

“I’m still figuring out what do,” Rip said defensively. In reality, he’d known the minute he escaped that he couldn’t go back to the Time Bureau without being thrown back in jail, and returning to the Legends ran the same risk. They didn’t need him anymore. They had Captain Lance and she was damn good. He would know—he’d trained her. He just thought he’d be off with his family when the time came to hand over the reins. Now he had no one.

“If they know you’re gone, the Legends will be looking for you,” Jax said, placing a gentle hand on Rip’s shoulder. “No man left behind and all that.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Rip said, trailing off. He took a long sip of his drink. “I thought I was doing something good when I created the Time Bureau. Turns out they’re just as bad as the rest of them.”

“They’re drunk on power,” Jax said. “Just like the Time Council before them. And like, the actual feds.”

“You’re right,” Rip said, letting out a long sigh. “And since I no longer have power, I will get drunk on alcohol.”

“I’ll cheers to that,” Jax said, knocking his plastic cup against Rip’s. “What made you choose Aruba anyway?”

“Probably the same thing that brought you here.”

“Mick,” they said in unison, laughing despite it all.

“He mentioned it so many times—” Jax said.

Rip nodded, his face cracking into a smile. “I thought I was ignoring him but it must’ve burrowed into my subconscious.”

“It’s actually pretty nice,” Jax said, leaning back on his stool. He took his sunglasses from his forehead and put them on, turning his face towards the sun. “Not a bad place to escape, all things considered.”

“Not if you like piña coladas,” Rip said, draining the last of his drink. He was trying to flag down the bartender to order another when Jax grabbed his arm, tugging him off the stool.

And that’s how they found themselves climbing onto the stage in the entertainment area, dragging the karaoke machine from behind the curtains. For two men who maintained a functioning time ship, it took a surprising amount of time mashing at buttons before they got it to work.

Rip was a surprisingly good singer. Unfortunately Jax wasn’t gifted with the same talent, but he was loud and happy, and that’s all that mattered. The last note of _The Piña Colada Song_ drifted out, Rip and Jax swaying contentedly—and mostly of their own accord.

After a stirring rendition of _Kokomo_ where Jax swapped out the names of the countries and Rip laughed every time, his head spinning, they headed to the dance floor. The heat and the loud music took Rip outside of himself, a sheen of sweat sticking his shirt against his pale skin as he jumped around.

Suddenly, the comms he’d stolen from the Time Bureau flashed, bright enough that it lit up in the dark room, and Rip brought it to his ear. It was hard to hear over the noise and static, but the snippets he got were enough to quell his high. The Bureau had been tracking the Legends, and something was going terribly wrong.

_………..stole the fire totem………Raymond Palmer also missing, last seen……….could be sometime in the 1960s, maybe in……….._

Rip told himself to ignore it, but there was a tugging in his gut that wouldn’t let him. _No man left behind and all that._

“Jax!” Rip yelled, grabbing his arm. “I have to go.”

“What?” Jax yelled, leaning in and sticking a finger into his other ear. “Go where?”

“The Legends need me,” Rip said. He shook his head self-deprecatingly, an unusually calm smile on his face. “Well, maybe not. But if they can use my help, that’s where I need to be.”

Jax nodded, a knowing smile on his face. He pulled Rip in for a tight hug.

“They need you,” he promised. “Once a Legend, always a Legend.”

Rip weaved his way off the dance floor and headed towards the dark beach, empty at this time of night. He turned back for one last wave, but Jax was already back to dancing. He pumped his fist in the air excitably and a young woman approached, her face open and bright. Jax paused to talk to her, his face flushed, and they laughed in unison.

“Always a Legend,” Rip whispered, taking one last breath of the cool ocean air. Then he pulled out his time courier and he was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Another quarantine fic challenge with [jessequicksters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessequicksters). I would die for Rip Hunter.


End file.
